


Your Second Life Begins When...

by peachnewt



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Avengers potluck dinners, Bucky barnes waxing eloquent about the time he has left with steve, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff, M/M, No bashing Peggy Carter, Old Steve Rogers, Past Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers, Past Relationship(s), Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Quote: I'm with you 'til the end of the line, Time Travel, no betas we die like men, of sorts, once steve gets an idea in his head he's gonna do it, slow dancing IN the moonlight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-01-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:08:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22371568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachnewt/pseuds/peachnewt
Summary: Bucky was happy for him, really.  He had always wanted Steve to live a long and healthy live.  So what if he hadn't been there for most of it?He would take whatever years Steve had left.  To the end of the line meant the end of the line.Thus there are dances in the moonlight, relearning how to hug, and banana candy.  And one instance of Steve being selfish.1/23/2020: Tiny update. Minuscule.  Fixed a few words, peppered in a few more.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers
Comments: 2
Kudos: 50





	Your Second Life Begins When...

#

Your Second Life Begins When...

  
Bucky could see Sam's shoulders pulled back in pride and duty; to the shield, to the man, to the role of Captain America. He gave them space to talk it out. Picking up or putting down a mantle took a lot of mental aerobics. Bucky would know. Sorting out the title of "Winter Soldier" and picking up "Bucky" had been like forcing tired, swollen feet into old boots. Having a new arm and a long stint in Wakanda helped.

Bucky could see the silver in Steve's hair despite the light of the golden-hour sun. A relief really. There were times he worried the knock-off serum had made him semi-immortal. Steve was evidence that time would not pass him by. Bucky could trace the lowered slope of Steve's shoulders that had carried the world and then finally got to put it down.

Leaning against a tree and hearing Banner behind them grow more frustrated with the machine, Bucky remembered days he prayed for young, skinny, three-hundred-pounds-of-dumbass-pride-in-a-ninety-pound-body Steve to make it through the night. Prayed for another month, week, year that Steve wouldn't end up in a pine box.

Now, Steve had gotten a whole lifetime.

Bucky was proud, but jealous too. He hadn't been there. Hadn't shown Steve the way. Barely taught him to dance, which Steve better have perfected before meeting up with the owner of that other wedding ring or Bucky would be embarrassed for them both.

Banner pounded at the ground in frustration, getting Sam's attention. He smiled back at Steve and then jogged back to Banner. Giving Bucky space to talk.

Damn him.

Bucky plopped down on the stone bench next to Steve. And it was _Steve_ , not "old Steve" or "gray Steve". Steve still felt like a fireball of existence via spite, heating up Bucky's right side. He smelled of clove cologne and gravitated ever so slightly to Bucky.

Bucky nodded to the ring. "Married."

"Yeah."

"A good lady?"

"Absolutely. The best."

Bucky eyed the soft contentment on Steve's face, the laugh lines and crow's feet. "Peggy?" he whispered.

A moment passed before Steve nodded.

Bucky grinned. "Only dame I'd ever seen that could handle you."

Steve's laugh lines crinkled.

They both gazed out to the ripple of gold on the water. Bucky thought back what he knew of Carter back then, and what he had read up on her once he recovered. The family tree that Steve had grafted himself into...

"Pal, you full on kissed your grand-niece."

"Not by blood, shut up."

And that's when they broke down in laughter. Wasn't a laughing matter, no sir. But they still laughed. They laughed until it dissolved into giggles, then broken breath, then silence again.

An awkward silence Bucky needed to fill. "You got a life."

Steve gazed down at the ring again. "Yeah."

"You earned it."

"I know. Buck-"

"I'm happy for you-"

"I'm sorry."

"...don't apologize. You gave everything you had for this world. You deserved a life."

"I left you behind."

Bucky sighed and closed his eyes. "I'm a grown man. I can take care of myself."

Not abandonment issues again. Those were old scars. Wakandan therapy worked wonders, but you still had to work at it. And it wasn't linear. Bucky could feel those old memories coming up again. Cold nights curling around Steve's frail body under a thin blanket. Sharing a tin of peaches in the ruins of France with one fork between them. Exchanging glances at each other's bodies as they cleaned off the mud and gunpowder in a Bavarian river. A heated gaze or two after the Howlers had too much to drink and they could let their hands roam.

Steve's hand clasped over Bucky's fist clenched against the bench. Bucky opened his eyes to a familiar blue-eyed expression. Sincerity. Steve was always sincere; whether promising to help or swearing he was fine after a fight.

Behind them they could hear Banner talking up a storm with Sam about the shield. At least he wasn't pounding at the ground anymore.

"I'm still sorry," said Steve.

"It doesn't change anything, pal. I'm still with you 'til the end of the line."

Except now Steve's line was much shorter.

~

Sam, Bucky, Bruce, and Steve developed a monthly pot-luck poker night. All Avengers were welcome, but the original four were the most consistent attendees. They sampled everything; from spaghetti to bao to tiramisu. Usually Bucky offered up a bag of fresh fruit from wherever he and Sam had been deployed. Captain American still needed someone on his six, and that was Bucky's job.

The first few months Steve arrived with casseroles wrapped in quilted potholders, and then proceeded to clean out every other Avenger of their hard earned change. Except for Bucky. Bucky had known Steve was a dirty rotten cheat at cards back in France. Didn't matter that he dressed like Mr. Rogers, it was a lie.

The Avengers must have wised up to Steve's winning streak because the gatherings slowly transformed from poker nights into catching up with each other's lives and sharing pictures while a movie played in the background. If they got around to it they played poker.

One evening it had quieted down and Bruce washed the dishes while Sam and Wanda dried them in between pointing out their favorite part of the movie playing in the living room. Steve walked out of the sliding glass doors that led to the lawn and landing strip and stared up at the sky. The moon sat like a cut in the air as Steve stood at the edge of the patio. Age weighed upon him like a wet wool blanket, sloping his shoulders and slowing his stride, but he stood tall.

Bucky joined him. "You got blue paint under your nails."

"Yeah. Been using it a lot lately. Do you bring the star fruit? It was good."

"Just picked it up while we were in Thailand, but thanks. It was either that or gros michel bananas, and Sam nixed that idea. He said they tasted like an affront to nature."

"Says him. He didn't grow up with our bananas."

Bucky forgot to mention he bought a bag of banana candy that stilled tasted like childhood. He hoarded those candies. But, perhaps, if the moment was right and someone asked nicely, he would share.

"You know you look a bit like the moon standing where you are," said Bucky.

"A sliver in the sky?"

"Sharp bit a silver on the ground." It wasn't the best of Bucky's lines, but he figured Steve had heard them all. Blunt honesty worked best with Steve.

Steve huffed, adjusting his sweater. "Flattering me in my old age."

"You're still damn handsome." And wasn't that the god's honest truth.

And the sharp bit of silver on the ground blushed. "Well, thank you." And then a sly bit of spark slid into Steve's smile. "Would you ask me to dance if you saw me in a dance hall?"

Bucky swiped his phone on and tabbed a playlist that reminded him of smoky dance halls and squeaking shoes. Old bass, trumpets, and a feathery voice crooning to the sky. Bucky held out his left hand, the moon-glow and lights from the landing strip making it shine.

"I'm asking you now."

And that sly smile grew bigger. Steve put his hand in Bucky's.

Gentle sway, slow swing out, spin back in, slight dip, and then swaying again; easy as breathing but left Bucky breathless.

"These the same moves you showed Peg?" For a moment Bucky regretted bringing her up, possibly throwing water on whatever fire they had growing.

Steve didn't falter, the fire didn't fade. "Yes."

"Good, then you didn't shame me and my hard work to teach you rhythm."

And they kept that slow rhythm of hands and swaying hips up until the end of the song. They stood in silence and silver light. Bucky could feel a thread of gravity that tried to draw him closer, and he sidestepped it.

"Good work, fancy feet."

Steve didn't let go of Bucky's hand. You'd think he was trying to keep him from falling off a train on a bridge or something.

_That's some dark humor there, Buck. Reel it back._

"You smell like salt," said Steve.

"Sam and I dropped in on an aircraft carrier earlier today." Bucky had forgone washing in favor of grabbing star fruit. "Didn't have much time to bathe."

"I didn't say you smelled bad."

They remained hand in hand as they stepped back inside the house. Dishes were dry, the movie was reaching the climax, and when Bucky and Steve sat together no one batted an eye. As if the two were as they always were.

Bucky would take every moment he could get.

~

That had been the first of many dances.

There came the nights were standing close became sitting together. Sitting together became sitting shoulder to shoulder. Then back to back. Front to back, hands crossed in front and fingers woven together. Steve the moonlight and Bucky the earth.

Another golden hour of sunset before the Avenger pot-luck, Steve and Bucky went outside after depositing a macaroni casserole and pineapple. They had a full house and Sam was trying to do something in the kitchen involving a pressure cooker.

"Fall off the bone good, Buck." Sam shook a plastic bag of spices in one hand while shooing Bucky away with the other. "Shoo while I work my magic."

 _His magic better not involve another temporal rift_ , thought Bucky. He snagged his secret bag of banana candy from his duffle and walked out onto the patio. Only a few pieces left. _Once was enough and Wanda's still pissed._

Steve and Bucky watched the dusk-light rime the field and trees with gold.

"I think this is called a Summer and Winter romance," whispered Steve, his chin resting on Bucky's shoulder as his arms came around and leaned into the younger man's back.

"You're pretty warm for a winter," said Bucky.

"It's the sweaters."

They didn't hem and haw around the semantics. Bucky and Steve were in love with each other. It wasn't the kind found in the monthly romance novels Bucky found in his mailbox (he knew Clint was to blame for those), and it wasn't the kind desperate to keep warm in a drafty Brooklyn apartment; but it was theirs. They hadn't gotten beyond light pecks on the lips and cozy cuddling, but Bucky remained content. Neither of them were still young bucks bathing in a Bavarian river.

"Don't matter the season; 'til the end of the line, pal." Buck nuzzled the crown of silver, inhaling cloves.

Steve's hand, intertwined with Bucky's, tightened. Not as strong as he used to be, but relentless in persistence. "It's a short line."

And wasn't that the sad thought Bucky tried to keep buried. Well he wasn't about to let Steve do any excavating. No "pushing you away for your sake" or "find a life with someone who still has a full one left". Fuck that.

Bucky squeezed back. Gently. He had seen the grimace on Steve's face once when he mentioned the arthritis. "It's yours. I'm sticking with it."

The chin tilted to fit under the hinge of Bucky's jaw, a puff of heated air following. Acceptance. Then a tugging of lips upon Bucky's neck that made him shudder.

"Does that mean I can have a piece of that banana candy in your pocket?"

"That's not candy, I'm just happy to see you."

" _Bucky_."

"Fine." Truth be told the vibration of Steve's voice right there on Bucky's neck made things tingle along his spine. Not quite "banana candy" happy, but it was a reminder of things they had forgone in their "Summer and Winter romance".

Steve's smug smile as he chewed the second to last piece of candy was worth it.

Two extra card tables had been set up in the living room as the Avengers bantered back and forth while watching a "Back to the Future" marathon. Bucky still had some catch up to do in popular culture; Steve pointed out the important bits and snickered at the flying cars. Both remembered Howard Stark's presentation back in '42. The comments about dehydrated food turned to praise for Sam's dry rubbed ribs--"that is magic, pure and simple"-- and assorted desserts.

And, because the Avengers had done it, the talk had gone around the movie's depiction of time travel and how different it was to the real thing. Bucky had heard bits and pieces of how the remaining Avengers managed to bring everyone back, but never the full story. The future had taken on a whole different shade from the science fiction pulps he had read for a dime back in Brooklyn.

"Did it take one point twenty one gigawatts?" asked Peter between bites of Steve's casserole. The boy loved any and all casseroles. And Steve had made sure to have extra set aside for Peter to take home at the end of the night.

"No but it took a lot of coffee." Bruce snickered and spooned more broccoli onto his plate. "And a few changes of pants."

Between spoonfuls of pie and a lightning strike on the screen, Bucky glanced over at Steve. The Avengers had given Steve the "throne" of all the seats--hail to the king-- meaning with one with plush blue suede cushion for his back and the easiest to get out of. Steve wasn't paying attention to the movie or the discussion. Instead his brows furrowed like silver ripples on a lake, lips pursed in stubborn thought. That face used to be a red flag; get the bandages and iodine at the ready cause ninety-pound Steve was about to tackle something three times above his weight class.

 _Nah_ , thought Bucky. _Whatever Steve's thinking he knows to be smart about it._

_Right?_

~

That thought haunted Bucky when he got a call from Bruce a week later and nearly burned the rubber off his motorcycle. He ran into the hangar and saw equipment similar to what Bruce had set up when sending Steve back to return the infinity stones. Wires lay ripped, some melted. Panels sparked and the air smelled of ozone and melted plastic. Where was Steve. Where was Bruce?

"Buck!"

Bucky spun around and saw the sun; Steve Rogers, young, blond, and pealing his sweaty, panting self out of a strange white armored suit. Too good to be true.

Up came the metal arm with a .22.

"Whoa whoa whoa!" said Bruce, his jumbo sized body quietly inching into view from the back part of the hangar that looked infested with wires. "It's really him. I swear. Not a clone, not Loki, not anything weird."

The arm lowered, but Bucky's head still spun with the worst-case scenario. "Then... Steve, is everything okay? Peg? The past? Why are you here? Do I-"

"Shhh..." And Steve had the utter audacity to smile, the punk. "Buck, it's still me."

"I kind a figured."

"No, I mean, present me. Old silver-haired me just..." Steve looked down at the sweat soaked undershirt that clung to a chest and abdomen carved with training and a science experiment. "...younger."

Bucky blinked and stepped closer to his sun. Those were the lips he skimmed with hellos and goodbyes. Those were the hands with paint in the creases and a slim gold ring. And eyes that crinkled at tasting banana candy. "...how?"

Steve looked towards Bruce, but the big guy waved his hands and stepped back. "Your idea. You can explain it."

Steve sighed. For a broken moment he looked like he regretted whatever he had just done, but would accept the consequences.

"I remembered our first bits of tinkering with time travel," said Steve. "And there had been a minute where Scott had de-aged into a teenager, then an old man, then a baby. Kind of confusing. But Tony had pointed out that what we were doing with Scott wasn't moving him through time but moving time through him. And I got to thinking-"

"Yeah, you do that a lot." Bucky had an inkling where this was going.

"I thought... I want to be selfish again. I don't regret having a life with Peggy. And I'm not looking to pick up the shield again. But I..." Tears built in the corners of his blue eyes, worried that he might have made the wrong decision. But Steve stepped closer. "If you're with me to the end of the line, I'm gonna be damn sure I'll be there until the end of yours. I'm not leaving you behind again."

An arm's length away, Bucky saw the lines that would deepen as the years stretched forward, he saw the skin at the neck that would sag and the hair that would go from the shine of the sun to the glow of the moon.

He saw a future that included dances in the moonlight for decades.

"So... you had Banner bring all this stuff out to pull time through your body so you could grow old with me?"

"Yes." Steve's hopeful face fell.

"Usually when you promise to grow old with someone there's a ring and a bended knee involved, punk."

Steve, after a moment, got the hint. He swiped a thin metal wire off a workbench, twisted it into a ring, and descended to one knee, a move that usually took more effort.

When Bucky knelt, it was to kiss those lips deeper and with a heat that would scorch the earth. Winter melting into Summer. Steve kissed back with every sincere bone in his body, arching up, cupping Bucky's jaw with one hand and pulling his waist with the other.

Bucky would get angry at Steve playing with time travel later. ("Did it hurt?" "I've had much worse." "Was it dangerous?" "Buck." "Answer the question!") Much later.

No one could tell when their line would end. The best they could do was tie theirs together in a knot.

At Bucky's insistence, and with Bruce's promise to say nothing, Steve wore the same sweater, trousers, and shoes that had trademarked Old Steve's other visits to an Avenger pot-luck. And a Brussels sprout and bacon casserole. Just to make it harder, Buck shaved his beard off and pulled his hair back.

It took five minutes for Sam to drop the salad tongs in shock.

And ten minutes after that for Clint to point out the odd shaped ring on Bucky's metal fingers.

**Author's Note:**

> This was something that came up after seeing Endgame and wanting a little more stucky in the world. I just now decided to finish it. Comments, kudos and minor corrections I can fix are welcome!
> 
> Also, a tip of the hat to idiopathicsmile's fic "Mistake on the Part of Nature" with banana candy. 
> 
> This is probably the only time I'll play in the Marvel sandbox. 
> 
> Check out my tumblr: peachnewt.tumblr.com to see what other fics I have planned as well as original works. ^_^


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